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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134791">Wedding Vows for Other People</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindlystrawberry/pseuds/kindlystrawberry'>kindlystrawberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Berseria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Complicated Relationships, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Weddings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:20:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindlystrawberry/pseuds/kindlystrawberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eizen isn't a petty person. He isn't. But his ex, Zaveid, is definitely going to be at Aifread's wedding, and Eizen gets himself stuck on the idea that he absolutely can't show up to the wedding alone. Magilou couldn't really care less, but after being bribed with the promise of a chance to interact more with Velvet, a friend from Eizen's college days, she could be persuaded to help him out. Maybe. </p><p>It was a simple enough plan, and neither of them cared too much, but life has a way of making things difficult.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edna (Tales of Zestiria)/Laphicet | Number Two, Eizen/Magilou, Eizen/Zaveid, Eleanor Hume/Rokurou Rangetsu, Velvet Crowe/Magilou, some background ships too:</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I won't put notes in every chapter and they certainly won't all be very long, but I feel like I have to preface this fic with a few things.</p><p>1st, the absolute embodiment of this fic is going to be the "complicated relationships" tag. If you're looking for a fic where Eizen/Magilou are endgame, I am going to explore that relationship, but this might not be the fic for you.</p><p>That being said, 2nd, I don't usually post a fic unless I've Finished It, or have it Fully Planned Out. But I'm practicing more in reading and writing unfinished fics. So this one isn't fully planned out, though I have general ideas to guide me and endgame ships in mind (eizen/zaveid, magilou/velvet).</p><p>And 3rd, asdfasdfasf. Lol. The idea for this fic put me in a chokehold and would not let me go, until next thing I knew I had mapped out a full family chart of my Modern AU ideas for the Crowe family, and even then I could not rest until I was drawing everyone's wedding outfits until I eventually started writing this. So this is going to be a bit of a journey for me, and I really really hope you guys like it! And the rest of the chapters won't be this short, this is just to set it up.</p><p>Please, if you enjoy the fic (or have any ideas, constructive criticisms, general feelings) leave me a comment so we can laugh, yell, speculate etc. together, since it'll really keep me motivated! And it's super fun to hear from people. So here we go! Magikazam.</p><p>Update: On March 2021 I'm updating this first and second chapter to be in present tense, to match the rest of the fic! I finally caved. A few minor sentence-level edits were made too, but nothing major enough to warrant a re-read.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Magilou’s laugh is deep, throaty, and slightly incredulous, the kind that lets Eizen know he’s totally fucked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this is going to be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Magilou,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he practically groans, fighting the urge to put his face in his hands and stay like that permanently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He considers himself a prideful man— maybe too much so, sometimes, but for the most part his pride is important to him. To Eizen it means he’s living life the way he’s meant to, going down his own path, by his own compass. He fuels his pride, and in turn it gives him strength. Oftentimes he relies on it to hold himself accountable, and to not lose sight of himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Other times it makes him want to swallow his whole foot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m only going to listen if you ask properly.” She shoots her exasperating smirk at him and leans further back against the cushions of her couch, folding her legs to the annoyance of the small black and white cat trying to nap on her. As she runs her slender fingers through its fur and stares at Eizen with a devilish look, he’s struck with the revelation that his friend— if she could currently be called that— would perfectly fit the bill of a cheesy villain in an 80s movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a heavy sigh, Eizen moves to sit on the other side of her couch, facing Magilou with a hard expression. His low voice is as even as he could get it while trying to fight off the urge to grit the words through his teeth. He’s sure anyone else would be intimidated by his tone, except, of course, Magilou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you, Magilou, be my plus one to a wedding and pretend to be my girlfriend so I can show up my ex?” He repeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>sink his face into his hands. Maybe his whole body could just sink underground and stay there— though with Eizen’s luck that would be unlikely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The platinum blonde simply arches an eyebrow at him. He groans and adds, “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou’s grin could probably light up an entire city, or burn it to the ground. Honestly at the moment Eizen hopes for the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. How long would we have to say we’ve been dating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, two months?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how long do we have to keep it up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean after the wedding?” Eizen reclines against the couch, scratching his chin. His hand passes over the spot where he cut himself shaving this morning, and he fights a wince. “It doesn’t have to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>constant</span>
  </em>
  <span> but as much as I hate to admit it, Zaveid has eyes and ears everywhere in this city. Especially around this area. I’d say maybe… a month? In that time we can pretend to go on something like two dates around town, and then ‘break up’ at the end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anything she may feel towards the plan is hidden to him behind the mask of indifference that he knows she’s perfected over the years. The only indication that Magilou is listening at all is her humming out a contemplative breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Nope! Find someone else to make your ex jealous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another groan. “Come on Magilou, we both know I wouldn’t be asking you if there was anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out a gasp in a show of faux-hurt. “You’re never going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>woo </span>
  </em>
  <span>me into being your girlfriend with those tactics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to be my girlfriend,” she gasps again and he adds, “And I damn sure know </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t want me to be your boyfriend. We just need to fake it.” He could tell she’s about to open her mouth to say something lewd, because again Eizen cut her off with a low, exasperated </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou huffs, staring at her fingernails. “Do I have to remind you that weddings are both long </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>a terrible chore? You’re asking me to not just sit through that, but then go on fake dates with you weeks after? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dates, </span>
  </em>
  <span>plural? I mean, come on, Eizen. Is there literally anything in it for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The joy of knowing you helped a friend?” She stares hard at him. “Fine. What if on whatever ‘dates’ we go on you can choose the destination and I’ll pay for it— even that expensive restaurant you’re always whining about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops picking at a hangnail. “And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And… my friend from college is going to be there. I saw her RSVP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this she actually perks up, her light green, slightly heterochromatic gaze finally focusing on him with full attention. “Velvet? The punk, beautiful, buff goddess of a woman walking among us mortals? The one you’ve barely let me meet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I regret giving you her Instagram.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though all she posts is work out videos, pictures of her family, and recipes she’s cooked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re mutuals now,” Magilou all but preens. “But… some face to face interaction would be good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen sighs. In for a penny, in for a pound. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>If </span>
  </em>
  <span>you go with me and pretend to date me, I can guarantee she’ll be there. And… After a month, I’ll give her your number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can see the gears working in her brain now, as she seriously weighs her options. “I’m going to flirt with her. You know that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you don’t blow our cover, I’m not gonna stop you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I wear a suit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou chews at her lip. Her cat, Bienfu, jumps off of her lap, scampering to some other part of her apartment. Probably to stare into the neighbor across the street’s window. He’s a weird cat. “After a month, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise </span>
  </em>
  <span>to give her my number?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never break a promise if I can help it,” he says seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s grinning again. “If you throw in a glowing recommendation of me to your Ancient Roman Goddess of a friend, then I’m in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about instead I give her your number and promise </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to show her your TikTok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sticks out a hand, he takes it, and they share a firm shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The reception’s in two weeks,” he says, getting up. “I’ll email you the details when I get home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Email? You can’t just text it to me, old man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For what is probably the umpteenth time today, Eizen sighs. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A </span>
  <em>
    <span>ding </span>
  </em>
  <span>from her microwave stops the woman from responding, making her get up and hum out a tune on the way to her tiny kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his way to the front door Eizen clears his throat and calls out, “Oh, and thanks, Magilou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoots him another grin over her shoulder, though he can’t tell if it looks more genuine or sly. “Don’t thank me just yet.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Magilou, he discovers, despite never having been in a relationship that’s lasted longer than a few weeks throughout the entirety of their friendship thus far, is really good at the whole ‘pretending’ deal. She’s on top of things that Eizen hasn’t even <em> thought </em>of, enough to solidify this makeshift plan into something he’s slowly suspecting they might actually get away with.</p><p>In the next two weeks, she texts him to make sure they coordinate outfits (his tie would match the color of her floral headband), grills him with questions so that they build up a vague-but-believable story behind their ‘relationship,’ and gives him advice on little things to do to make sure it looks like they’re actually together— icky subconscious love ticks, she calls them— like putting his arm around her shoulder, or smiling at her when she’s not looking at him but he knows someone else might be. </p><p>Maybe she’s just really good at lying in general.</p><p>Much to the quiet amusement of Eizen’s  sister, the two of them iron out the last of the details (namely, boundaries) on the ride to the wedding. Why Magilou insists on sitting in the backseat next to Edna instead of shotgun is beyond him. At this point in their friendship, he’s learned to pick his battles.</p><p>(Though if Eizen <em> has </em>to guess it’s probably because she likes making him feel like a taxi driver).</p><p>“So can I rub your hair? Ya know, fuss it up?” Magilou asks.</p><p>Luckily they’re at a red light, so he can make eye contact with her in the rearview mirror <em> just </em>to make sure she can see him roll his eyes. “Why?”</p><p>“Affection!”</p><p>“His hair’s full of gel today.” Amusement sneaks through Edna’s tone. “Your hand’s probably gonna get stuck.”</p><p>“Ooh. Yikes, the kid’s right. I’ll stick to shoulder punches then.”</p><p>“Somehow,” he says, as the light turns green, “I don’t feel like shoulder punches are a particularly romantic gesture.”</p><p>Edna shrugs. “They can be.”</p><p>His heart almost stops; in his shock, Eizen takes a right turn a bit too sharply. “Wh— what do you know about romance!?” </p><p>“You know.” She monotones.</p><p><em> “No I absolutely don’t! </em>Edna, what do you know about romance? Who’s punching you in the arm?” </p><p>Magilou starts cackling, a full, boisterous laugh. </p><p>“<em> Oh my god, </em> can I pay your sister to keep her around all the time? Kiddo, I’ve never heard his voice crack like that, you have to teach me your ways.”</p><p>“Mm, sorry, can’t do. Sibling privileges.”</p><p>“You play a hard game.” Magilou sounds vaguely impressed, which is <em> annoying </em>.</p><p>“Can we <em> please,” </em>he clears his throat, trying to will his voice back to neutral, “stick to what’s at hand? We’re almost there.”</p><p>“Fine, fine. I’ll summarize— Waist, knee, and shoulder touches are fine in a crowd, pinching cheeks and rubbing hair are used only when called for,” Magilou counts off on her fingers even at Eizen’s grumbling, “kisses on the cheek and forehead are also fine, and regular lip-to-lip kisses are acceptable as long as A, someone else is watching, two, we both keep our eyes closed and III—”</p><p>“Do you really have to spell out the roman numer—”</p><p>“Hands are kept still. Oh, and no tongue, if we can help it. Did I miss anything?”</p><p>There are no interjections.</p><p>After a few moments of silence, Edna muses, “You guys have pretty few boundaries.”</p><p>They both shrug.</p><p>“Eh, it’s pretty easy when neither of us cares too much. Right, Eizen?”</p><p>“Yeah. If something was going to happen between us, it would’ve already.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah!” Magilou turns to Edna. “There was even that time at a grad conference that your brother and I had to share a hotel room.”</p><p>Eizen pulls the car up to the hotel, following the signs towards the slow queue of cars waiting to park in the designated area.<br/>
Edna hums out a noise. “Oh? I never knew my big brother did something shady like that.”</p><p>Magilou snorts.</p><p>Eizen has to invoke thoughts of road safety to stop himself from banging his head into the steering wheel. </p><p>“I promise you,” he says, “it was nowhere <em> near </em>‘shady.’ We both did it to avoid annoying circumstances.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When the agonizing line of cars finally lets up and Eizen can park, Magilou gets out of the car with a joint-popping stretch. The fabric of her three-piece suit strains against the movement.</p><p>“Easy there,” she hears Eizen mumble from where he’s helping Edna out of the car.</p><p>“I’m fine. But thanks.”</p><p>Apparently this is her first time wearing proper heels to an event. Though the thirteen-year-old’s face reveals no signs of discomfort, Magilou revels in the way Eizen is fretting while simultaneously trying to act <em> totally cool </em> about it. The way he dotes— which ranges from thinly-veiled mama-hen instincts to willing to actually trade blows with someone— is something Magilou has come to derive plenty of amusement from. At least ever since he had first mentioned his little sister (which had been, like, 30 minutes into their first meeting). </p><p>“Ready?” He asks, now looking across the car roof at Magilou.</p><p>“Yes sir, captain sir.”</p><p>He starts to walk, Edna’s arm curled into his elbow, and Magilou skips a bit to catch up. The walk through the halls towards the hotel garden reception is a pleasantly quiet one, broken up only by Magilou’s soft hums. </p><p>Just before they get to the indoor waiting room full of champagne trays and loitering guests, Magilou grabs Eizen’s arm and steers him behind a wall.</p><p>“What?” Eizen asks, and Magilou tries not to find that the way both he and his sister blink at her in perfect unison while waiting for a response creepy.</p><p>She drops her voice to a whisper, unable to help the slight irritation at his tone. “The whole <em> point </em>of this is to make your ex, Zedly—”</p><p>
  <em> “Zaveid.” </em>
</p><p>“— Zavern, <em> whatever, </em> jealous, right?” </p><p>Days ago she had asked Eizen if they had to pretend in front of Edna, but he just pointed out that his sister was probably the one person who could immediately see through him— it wasn’t even worth it to try. So she doesn’t try to hide it now, and the less effort required is a relief.</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Then it would probably help your case if your ‘girlfriend’ was on your arm, not your little sister. You’re walking just fine on your own, right kid?”</p><p>Edna nods and steps away, glancing down at the yellow heels matching her dress. She’s almost Magilou’s height in them, which, to be fair, isn’t really saying much “These aren’t difficult.” </p><p>“Well then.” Magilou turns to Eizen with a sarcastic raise of her eyebrow. “You know I was a theatre major for a bit in my undergrad, right?”</p><p>“You were <em> every </em>major for a bit in your undergrad, if I recall correctly.”</p><p>“Hey— if you want me to put my <em> superb </em> acting skills to the task, and be even the slightest bit convincing together, you’re going to have to be nice to me, you know. As much as it’s gonna pain you.”</p><p>He sighs, rubbing at his temples before pushing back his already slicked-back hair. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I guess I’m— tense, knowing I’m going to see that man again. Anyway, come here.” He holds out his arm. </p><p>She tucks her elbow into his and tucks herself close against his side. </p><p>“Oh!” She makes a dramatic show of pressing into his shoulder, putting one hand up to her forehead like she’s swooning. Eizen sighs in response, making her waggle her eyebrows at him.</p><p>When the three of them pass the next room Magilou has to keep a vice grip on Eizen’s forearm to stop him from causing a scene with the waiter who tries to offer Edna champagne, but luckily they manage to step outdoors with no real incident. </p><p>There’s a whole slew of people to say hi to— friends or family of the groom that all want to greet to Eizen, strangers who barely recognize him, and old-coworkers who want to catch up— and Magilou would find it incredibly boring if she didn’t have three specific weapons in her arsenal:</p>
<ol>
<li>Copious amounts of alcohol. </li>
</ol><p>Not enough to get <em> drunk </em>, since she wants to keep her head about her and actually get away with this whole lie of theirs, (more than anything else, just to get to be an audience member to the drama that she knows is going to unfold, eventually, because she has a sense for these things), but enough to pleasantly tune out the world and focus on the fleetingly warm feeling in her chest that comes from liquor.</p>
<ol>
<li>Quietly observing Edna.</li>
</ol><p>The girl is roaming around the reception area, having already spotted a certain platinum-blonde boy around her age. Magilou knows, from Velvet’s Instagram feed, that this boy is Phi, the son of Seres Crowe, Velvet’s aunt, thus making Phi Velvet’s cousin. Honestly, Magilou had initially thought he was the twin of her younger brother, but enough snooping around (namely, buying Eizen some rum and then bugging the hell out of him) taught her the truth: they were both simply born around the same time, as well as both named after their grandfather in what, apparently, had caused a mild family feud between their parents.</p><p>That isn’t particularly interesting though.</p><p>What is interesting is the fact that Edna and Phi are chatting very happily, and if Magilou knows one thing it’s how to read people— and these two are <em> oozing </em>puppy love. On top of it being mildly cute, she knows Eizen’s reaction will be priceless, so Magilou makes sure to keep an eye on the young pair to see how the day progresses. </p>
<ol>
<li>And finally, her biggest weapon of all is <em>Velvet. </em>
</li>
</ol><p>She hasn’t seen the black-haired woman yet— hasn’t felt all the flowers in the grass perk upwards in her direction, or the oxygen in the area all come to a stop as nature recognizes one of its own, perfection, in this hot female <em> goddess— </em>but just the promise of her is enough. </p><p>Trying to keep a good balance between looking around and not being obvious keeps Magilou entertained enough.</p><p>“Eizen!”</p><p>“Benwick, my man! How are you?”</p><p>A young man with an absolute <em> bird’s nest </em>of blonde hair comes jogging up to them. His stride is purposeful, clearly having something to say, but the moment he gets close his bright green gaze focuses on Magilou instead. </p><p>He blinks back up at his friend a moment later. “Oh—  who’s this, Eizen? Do you actually have a date?” </p><p>Eizen clears his throat lightly, and Magilou curls into his side.</p><p>“Yes— this is my girlfriend.” Good! It had taken a long<em> , long </em>wine night at his place earlier this week to practice calling each other affectionate names without sounding stiff, or actually wincing. It seems to have paid off. “We’ve been dating for a few months, so I asked her to come with me. She loves this kind of stuff, with dressing up and flowers and everything.”</p><p>She fights the urge to step on his foot.</p><p>“Wow, that’s great! We were getting worried, since you haven’t dated in a while since— er, well anyway, it’s nice to see! My name’s Benwick.” </p><p>He holds out his hand, and she shakes it lightly.</p><p>“Magilou. It’s nice to meet one of Eizey’s friends.” Trying not to grin at the way Eizen stiffens at the nickname, Magilou searches through her memories of the basics they had gone over together. “He’s talked about you— you’re one of his co-workers, right?”</p><p>“Yeah! Well— we only work together sometimes, now that he’s gone off on his own, but Eizen still works with me at the firm sometimes! Oh—” he turns to Eizen. “I almost forgot what I came here for. Aifread wants to see you.” </p><p>“Of course. Is something wrong?”</p><p>“No, no, I think he just wants to chat before the reception. If you follow me I can show you where he is.” </p><p>Oh. There it is: an unmistakable long mane of dark hair, framed by pale shoulders and a long, black gown. </p><p>“Eizen, honey,” Magilou pulls at his arm just enough to get his attention in that direction. “I’ll let you go alone so you can have your privacy— let me make sure Edna’s doing alright.”</p><p>She watches as his gaze lands on Velvet for just a second.</p><p>“Right, thanks. I won’t be gone long.”</p><p>Just like they had practiced, Magilou stands up on her toes to press the lightest possible kiss against Eizen’s cheek (well, his jaw, because of course he refuses to bend down), before moving through the crowd in the direction of beauty and perfection herself. Before that, though, Magilou doesn’t miss the ecstatic look on Benwick’s face, and she can’t help but smirk, just a bit, knowing that he’s going to be forced to gossip the whole walk over. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Acquaintances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You know, it’s been a while since we’ve caught up like this.” Benwick’s smile is guileless as he walks beside Eizen, guiding him down a never-ending set of hallways. Sometimes they’d pass a caterer, make-up personnel, or family member bustling through in a hurry, and the shorter blonde would wave, nod, or say hello to each and every one. Eizen has always liked that about the man,  how he could become friends with pretty much anyone.</p><p>Eizen’s sure that his own smile looks a bit guilty at the moment. “Yeah, it has been. I’m glad we’re doing it now.” He tries not to, but he sighs. “Look, I know I’ve been busy since—”</p><p><br/>
“Hey, hey.” Benwick flashes that toothy grin of his. “No need to apologize. You’ve got your research, and Edna. I get it. We all do! You know that no one resents you for leaving the company, right?”</p><p>Eizen can’t help but scoff. “Not even…”</p><p>He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. When Eizen quit the travel agency— which mostly focused on informational books, maps, and vacation planning— to go back to school and publish his own research, his send-off had been a pleasant, if alcoholic, one. Even <em> ‘he’ </em> had been fine with it. It was only <em> after </em>when things went sour, though it hadn’t taken long. </p><p>Benwick scratches the back of his head, messing up his hair even further.</p><p>“Well, I mean— <em> he’s </em> a bit mad, but he’ll get over it soon. It’s great you’re making it on your own— and hey, you’re almost done with the program, right? We’re gonna have to start calling you <em> Doctor, </em>soon.” </p><p>Eizen grins. “Damn straight.”</p><p>“And you know, sometimes I read bits of the thesis drafts you send Aifread—” Benwick puts up a defensive stance when Eizen makes an affronted noise, but continues, slightly hurried. “Hey, hey— look— he doesn’t always <em> know </em> I do it but you know how bad the boss is with tech security— and, anyway, from what I’ve read, it’s really good, alright! I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, Eizen, you’re probably, like, the biggest history dork, <em> ever </em>, so… Stop scowling and take the compliment, asshole.”</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>They turn down another corridor, and Eizen has to pretend to yawn to hide the smile threatening at his lips. </p><p>He’s about to say something when a hurried voice comes running down the corridor towards them.</p><p>“Benwick! Benwick— dude— you’ve gotta— there’s…” </p><p>They stop walking when the man catches up to them. Eizen thinks he vaguely recognizes him as an intern that had joined just before Eizen left, but he doesn’t have time to put a name to the face before the man is hunching over his knees, still desperately trying to gasp something out while he takes in deep, panting breaths. Eizen vaguely wonders if he had sprinted halfway across the city.</p><p>“Woah, woah, calm down, Mario. It’ll be fine, just tell me what’s up.”</p><p>The man, Mario, nods weakly. “The cake…”</p><p>Benwick’s eyes go wide. “Shit— uh,” he turns to Eizen, who nods in understanding.</p><p>“Don’t worry, go ahead. It’s just down this way, then to the right, right? I can make it.”</p><p>Nodding gratefully, Benwick shoots him a smile. “Thanks— I’ll see you after the ceremony, alright?”</p><p>He watches as the two men go hurriedly back down the hallway, harshly and rapidly arguing the entire time. After a fond sigh and a headshake he can’t help, Eizen starts walking again. Just as he turns right, though, there’s an all-too-familiar <em> tsk </em>and a laugh that makes Eizen’s hair stand on edge.</p><p>He moves to look at where his ex-boyfriend is leaning against an alcove, right next to the door that leads to where Aifread’s waiting. His thick arms are resting at his sides, his hands shoved into the small pockets of his tightly-fitting formal pants, and his hair rests just a few inches past his shoulders, longer than he had ever had it when they were together. </p><p>He’s staring at Eizen with a mix of emotions that the blonde can’t— and doesn’t even want to spend the energy trying to— read, but Eizen could at least make out the amusement and contempt. </p><p>“Eizen,” the man drawls in his low voice.</p><p>Eizen takes a breath. “Zaveid.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Obviously, checking up on Edna had just been an excuse to sound like a good ‘girlfriend’ while Magilou let Eizen go do his own chores, while also gave her free time to go find Velvet. Still, that didn’t mean Magilou wouldn’t search the crowd for the small blonde tween anyway, just for the sake of it. </p><p>Champagne glass in hand, Magilou uses her shorter stature— despite the slight boost that her platform heels give her— to hover between the crowd of chatting people. After a minute, at the corner farthest from where Eizen had left to go indoors, Magilou spots her.</p><p>Edna has a small, almost antagonistic-looking grin on her face, but even from here Magilou could see the liveliness shining in her blue eyes as she spoke to the boy in front of her: Velvet’s cousin, who Magilou recognizes from a few Instagram posts. For his part, the boy (who had to be close in age to Edna, if not slightly younger) somehow looks both overjoyed and extremely bashful. He has a bright pink blush on his cheeks, which looks even stark when contrasted against the frame of his pale, platinum blonde hair. </p><p>At this point in time, Magilou only knows a few, basic things about Velvet:</p><p> First, she is absolutely gorgeous. To be fair, anyone with eyes could see that, especially when she’s wearing that off the shoulder, black knee-length dress with lace sleeves that clings to her muscular, elegant frame— but the point still stands, anyway. </p><p>Second, she was friends with Eizen from their undergrad years, and even when Eizen went off to grad school and Velvet dropped out to go to culinary school, they’ve kept in contact. </p><p>Third, Velvet cares about her family. <em> A lot.  </em></p><p>That last one is the fact that flits through Magilou’s mind as she watches Velvet’s cousin and Eizen’s sister engage in what could best be described as young-puppy-love flirting. For a moment Magilou considers what would happen if Eizen’s over-protectiveness had to clash against Velvet’s undying family love… The fight would undoubtedly be terrifying, and deeply entertaining. </p><p>Maybe another day she’d get to spectate. </p><p>With a shrug and a hum, Magilou turns around and through the crowd sees Velvet again, hovering some feet away and not particularly talking to anyone. She’s watching her cousin’s interaction with a fond smile. </p><p>“It’s kinda sweet, right?” </p><p>Velvet’s amber gaze moves to bore into Magilou, who’s now standing next to her. In response Magilou simply meets her eyes, and is content at the look of recognition that passes over Velvet. </p><p>“I’m Magilou— we’ve met a few times through Eizen, but not nearly enough.”</p><p>“Velvet. Yeah, I remember. You post weird things on your Instagram.” </p><p>“Do I?” Magilou asks innocently. “Videos of magic tricks from my work, photos of my stupid cat being high on catnip, the occasional reminder that existence is intrinsically meaningless so we should all give ourselves up to eldritch deities. Is that weird?”</p><p>Velvet snorts out a short, wry chuckle. “You want my honest answer?”</p><p>“Oh god no, I hate honesty. Lies are way more fun.” </p><p>The woman rolls her eyes, and Magilou decides to take that as a win— the sooner Velvet gets to know Magilou’s annoying humor, the sooner she can try to get Velvet to be one of the few people who find it impossibly charming.</p><p>Velvet’s already looking back at the pair of kids, who are giggling over something that both of the women are too far away to hear.</p><p>Magilou pipes up again. “I’m not used to seeing Edna smile that much around anyone that isn’t Eizen. She seems to like your cousin.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Velvet’s voice is deep and soothing. Her expression is more neutral now than it had been when she was alone, but her voice is still full of love, like she can’t help it. “Phi looks like he’s having a good time. I’m glad.”</p><p>“‘Phi?’”</p><p>“Yeah. Laphicet kind of became a common name in my family. Well, a common name to feud over.”</p><p>“Ooh, family feuds. Please elaborate.”</p><p>Velvet shoots her a slightly suspicious look, with one perfectly arched black eyebrow raised. “You sure? I didn’t think my family tree was interesting enough for someone to car.”</p><p>“Honestly, I don’t care that much about <em> anyone’s </em> family tree, but… I’ve never been a big fan of weddings, so just waiting here with nothing to do makes <em> anything </em> more fun. It’s either ask you questions, or go count the amount of sea-themed decor in this place. And— I’m always a fan of drama.”</p><p>“If you’re not a fan of weddings, why did you come?”</p><p>Damn. Magilou promised Eizen she wouldn’t blow their cover, but she also wants to avoid mentioning the fact that they’re ‘dating.’ They’d be ‘breaking up’ soon enough anyway, and then Magilou could really kick up her plans of wooing Eizen’s amazing friend. </p><p>Her voice doesn’t waver as she nonchalantly shrugs. “Eizen asked me to. Who am I to say no?”</p><p>“Right. You two met at… Grad school, right? You were at the party he threw when he got accepted into that PhD program he wanted.”</p><p>“Right-o. Now— tell me about your family naming drama, before I collapse from boredom.” </p><p>Part of her <em> does </em> want to learn more about Velvet (the woman is so private it’s hard to know anything, even through a mutual friend and social media), but part of Magilou also isn’t kidding. Waiting around for the ceremony to start with crowds of people she doesn’t know is enough to make the blonde want to… well, she wasn’t sure what, but literally <em> anything </em> other than this.</p><p> At least the early-autumn breeze keeps her from overheating in her three-piece, petal-pink suit; if Aifread had chosen a <em> summer </em>outdoor wedding, Magilou would’ve probably left by now, deal with Eizen be damned.</p><p>Velvet rolls her eyes again, but Magilou could tell she was fighting off a smile. That alone puts Magilou in a good mood.</p><p>“My granddad was the first Laphicet. I never really met him, but apparently he was a great dad to my dad and aunt. So when my parents had my little brother, they named him Laphicet. Then a year later my aunt, Seres, <em> also </em>had a son.”</p><p>“Ah. And let me guess— also named him Laphicet.”</p><p>Velvet nods, taking a sip of her barely touched champagne glass. “Right. So my brother is Laphi, and my cousin is Phi. My dad and his sister fought about it for a while, but when Phi grew up and spent a lot of time around the house, he and Laphi became good friends so the feud just melted away at some point.” She shrugs.</p><p>“And the two Laphicets were born. A beautiful tale.” Magilou makes a show of wiping non-existent tears from her eyes.</p><p>Instead of rolling her eyes again, though, Velvet just shoots the blonde a wry look— one that’s too attractive to be fair, really. “Actually… three. Then my older sister, Celica, had a daughter and wanted to continue the tradition.”</p><p>“A third Laphicet? What’s this one nicknamed?”</p><p>“Phiona. Or Fifi. Laphi and Phi were annoyed about it for a while, but it’s hard to stay mad at a toddler.” </p><p>Magilou could think of a couple of toddlers she was still annoyed at, but for once she decides to keep that to herself.</p><p>Velvet has that really soft look in her eyes again, the one that’s a total contrast to the rest of the tough, goth-like appearance she usually displayed. Magilou had to stop herself from leaning closer— did Velvet have a dimple? She couldn’t tell. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Normally Eizen and Zaveid are the exact same height, down to the very centimeter. This is fine, because Eizen had, of course, come with a plan. </p><p>He closes the gap between them until he’s standing just an inch or two away from Zaveid, the alcove sheltering them from the rest of the hallway. Predictably, the moment Eizen steps up Zaveid pushes off the wall, un-hunching his shoulders and standing up to his full height. This means that Eizen gets to watch in real-time as the cocky grin on the man’s face morphs into confusion, before Zaveid starts scanning Eizen from head to toe.</p><p>Eizen hadn’t wanted to run into Zaveid at all today, if he could help it, and definitely not while he was alone, but he had prepared for the worst; in this case, if that meant that he had gone out especially to buy a new pair of dress shoes that gave him just an extra inch of height in the heels— which was enough for only Zaveid to notice— could anyone really blame him?</p><p>The glare that Zaveid points at him as the realization dawns on his face makes the whole thing worth it.</p><p>“That’s it?” Zaveid says as he crosses his arms too, his voice that ever-odd mix of gruff and suave. “‘S all you’re gonna say to me? ‘Zaveid?’ Not the first time you just call my name, but—”</p><p>Eizen immediately grabs for the collar of Zaveid’s shirt (it’s opened a few buttons because of course it is, but Eizen makes it work by scrunching the fabric together in his fist) and pushes him up against the wall. Zaveid only grins again.</p><p>“Do you—” Eizen starts and then stops, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning his head forward so that no one else in the corridor hears them. “Do you <em> have </em>to be lewd right away? We haven’t seen each other in what, months, and you immediately have to start this up?”</p><p>“And who’s fault is it that we haven’t seen each other in months, huh?”</p><p>Eizen would be rolling his eyes if he wasn’t too busy glaring into the coy look of his ex’s copper gaze.<em> “Yours.” </em></p><p>Zaveid scoffs, swatting away Eizen’s hands in a smooth motion and straightening out his clothes. “Oh, great, so we’re starting this shit again, huh? Can’t hop off my dick for even a minute—”<br/>
“I would if you could act properly for once in your—”</p><p><em> “‘Properly?’” </em> Zaveid steps up to him, so that they’re barely an inch apart, and Eizen relishes in the way Zaveid <em> just </em> has to raise his eyes to look at him. “Who gives a shit about ‘properly?’ Since when have <em> you </em>, specifically, given a shit about ‘properly,’ you fucking hypocrite?”</p><p>“I know when to turn it on and off,” Eizen says in a low voice.</p><p>“Yeah,” Zaveid’s voice drops just as low, but in an entirely different way, and Eizen has to fight the shiver climbing up the base of his spine. “I bet you do.” </p><p>His pulse is still pounding, that blood rush of vexation and exhilaration that was a particular mix of feelings only Zaveid could get from him like this. He’s not even sure who starts it, but the very next second their mouths are slanted against each other, kissing angrily like that might suck the poison out from the other’s mouth. Or maybe put the poison in. They fall back against the wall, Zaveid hitting it with a noise of pleasure. The lines of their chests are pressed together, sharing a feverish heat between them, and suddenly Eizen remembers how easy it is to just <em> forget </em> things <em> , </em> whenever he’s around Zaveid, whenever they’re pushed up against each other like this. </p><p>Eizen’s hands find their way to the fabric of Zaveid’s button-down, as if to put some distance between them; Even then, it takes a minute before Eizen manages to get his senses enough to push him away again. </p><p>Strands of his blonde hair fall out from his slicked-back style and into his eyes as he drops his head and breathes in ragged breaths. He can feel Zaveid’s eyes on him, on the hair sticking to his forehead.</p><p>“We can’t—” Eizen’s voice is rough. Ignoring the other man’s grin, he clears his throat, patting down the fabric of his suit and waistcoat back in to place, then moving to fix his hair hastily. He starts again in a neutral, even tone. “We can’t keep doing this, Zaveid. I have a girlfriend now.” </p><p>“Do you really! So the rumors are true.” Zaveid’s eyes are glittering and his smile is bright, but there’s some kind of spite behind the look— Eizen would know. He’s seen Zaveid’s real smile before, the one that’s bright and happy and carefree enough to outshine the sun.</p><p>“Yeah, they are. She’s here with me now, actually. She’s waiting for the ceremony outside.”</p><p>“I brought someone too, you know. I mean, haven’t been dating her for long, but.”</p><p>Eizen raises an eyebrow. “But?” He asks, prompting Zaveid to continue, but the man simply shrugs. </p><p>Eizen brings his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, taking another step back, as if the physical distance would solve their problems— which was almost ironic, considering how their relationship had ended. </p><p>“We can’t,” Eizen goes on, leveling Zaveid with a serious look. “That’s all the more reason this has to <em> stop. </em>This isn’t occasional random post-breakup hookups on bad days anymore. We’re seeing other people now, we’re responsible for how we treat them.”</p><p>Whatever had passed between them seems to be calming now. The crackling emotions that threatened to boil over at any second hardened into that firm, stubborn rock of emotion that Eizen knew from experience meant this fight was going nowhere. This is how it had been at the end of their relationship; they had both gotten too tired to try anymore. Rather than the give and take of water, learning from each other, <em> listening </em>to each other and compromising, it was now like two rocks being slammed together until there was a spark, and then nothing. </p><p>Eizen could see it, the pissed look that had been in Zaveid’s eye just a few minutes ago was now calloused, like he couldn’t care less what Eizen said or did.</p><p>Zaveid clicks his tongue, staring at the wall next to him. “You’ve always cared so much about responsibility.”</p><p>There’s some retort fresh on his tongue, and Eizen’s about to say it when the door next to them slams open. Eizen doesn’t jump, but damn, he had forgotten for a minute where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing. Zaveid had always done that to him, whirlwind as he was.</p><p>“Eizen— there you are. I was worried something happened to Benwick that he didn’t tell you I called.” His gaze, ever perceptive, slides over Eizen’s shoulder to where Zaveid was still standing by the alcove wall. “Ah, you two found each other again. ‘Ya talk things out?”</p><p>Without sparing Zaveid another glance, Eizen brushes down the fabric of his waistcoat and walks with a purposeful stride towards the door, into a room away from where his ex was. </p><p>“I’ll wait for you here,” Eizen says to Aifread as he passes, using his usual even, serious voice, as if he hadn’t just been panting against Zaveid and a wall.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey readers! If you guys could help me by answering your opinions on these two questions, I'd really appreciate it!</p><p>1. In my head I have the whole context of this modern AU, which I'm slowly trying to reveal in a way that's natural and not just exposition-dumping. Can you guys keep me posted on if it's clear or not? Next chapter is gonna be the one that really talks about the basics of this au (Eizen's connection to Aifread, mostly), so let me know if that and the Crowe family tree make sense as I try my best to explain them well in-story!</p><p>2. 3/21 Update: I've stopped being lazy and updated the tense to match.</p><p>Also, go to my bio and follow my Tumblr/Twitter for behind the scenes stuff for this fic + my other stuff.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Conversations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His arms are folded as he stares at the room around him, vaguely taking in the artwork hung on the walls and the tacky decor. After a minute of some hushed conversation in the corridor, Aifread comes into the room and closes the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you two’re getting along great, all things considered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen turns around to face him, mostly to make sure Aifread sees him rolling his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen takes the chance to study his friend. It’s so rare to see him dressed up: his usually untidy hair is (mostly) tied back in a half-updo— making Eizen think of Zaveid, to his annoyance— and his tuxedo is a simple, elegant white suit with black and gold accents. Of course his pocket square has an anchor on it, but that’s just Aifread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a photo,” Aifread says, drawing Eizen back out of his thoughts. “It’ll last longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sure it will.” Eizen’s smirking now. “I still have trouble believing you’re actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>able </span>
  </em>
  <span>to clean up. I specifically remember meetings where Benwick had to pin you down beforehand to comb your hair and beg you to put on a blazer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread laughs heartily at the memory. Trying to get their boss to look even barely presentable for important events had become a semi-regular office-wide mission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave that kid a good run for his money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More like gave him high blood pressure,” Eizen mutters, before needing to dodge Aifread’s attempt to swat him across the head. Immediately after the blonde checks to make sure his hair is still slicked back. “Watch it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they’re both laughing, Aifread slinging his arm around Eizen’s shoulder to pull him close for just a few moments. The sounds echo within the groom’s changing room. It’s been a while since they laughed like this. It feels good. After both of them calm down, Aifread takes a seat in the plush chair next to the room’s full-length mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s your thesis coming along, Eizen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s getting there. Two more semesters left. Actually,” Eizen takes the chance to lean back against the closest wall as he regards the man who was probably his closest friend. “My advisor’s been talking to me about hiring a professional publisher for the research— turn it into a book after my PhD.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Aifread’s stroking his beard in an absent motion. “‘S probably a good idea. You’re still doing alright with the royalties off your first book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Those and the monthly program stipends are getting us by. But my advisor and I were discussing how putting my thesis into a book could help me get my research out there, and,” Eizen shrugs, “more royalties never hurt. They’ll help me support Edna when I’m done with school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still got that dream yours? Buy a house, settle down somewhere, and send Edna to a real public school?” Aifread’s smiling slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the answer to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s almost in highschool now, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s thirteen,” Eizen snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright.” With another laugh, as if he had predicted that response, Aifread puts his hands up placatingly. Then almost in the blink of an eye he’s serious again; he’s always managed to straddle both humor and maturity so well that watching him switch between them is dizzying. Eizen thinks it’s a talent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why are ya telling me this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he says, “You know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread only raises his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time the blonde actually does roll his eyes. “I was thinking of doing it with the company. I know it’s not exactly a travel book, but it does talk about the history of a lot of places.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And,” Aifread continues, as if he did in fact know where this was going, the stubborn bastard, “you just happened to put together a branch for the publishing side of the company to broaden its horizons, right before you left. Isn’t that right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen shrugs, trying to keep his lips from twitching into a smile. “I’m a man with plans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long pause. It’s one Eizen is comfortable with, familiar with, as Aifread takes the time to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zaveid’s really taken up the mantle since you left, you know,” Aifread says after he’s gathered his thoughts. He reclines further in the chair. “Not that he’s exactly my right-hand man, yet, but the guy’s really climbed up the ranks and implemented changes. Pretty decent ones, half the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen suddenly craves a drink. “Good for him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do publish through the company, you’ll probably have to work with him. You know that, right? Doesn’t have to be as your editor, but he’s been managing a lot of projects— especially the ones with newer genres.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen doesn’t have a response for this, and Aifread knows it. Working with the company part-time instead of leaving entirely was a big talking point Zaveid had made during their arguments near the end of their relationship. To come back, now, after getting his degree, and after everything that’s still between them, would probably be seen as a slap in the face to Zaveid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen isn’t sure why that thought bothers him so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Zaveid had first joined the company, the two of them had basically been rivals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread had been one of the professionals Eizen interviewed and got to know over the course of his MA degree, to the point that Eizen had a job at the man’s company offered to him before he finished grad school. For that last year he juggled both school and work, and then, only a little over a year-and-a-half of being the right-hand man to Aifread as he grew his travel agency/publishing firm into a respected business, Zaveid joined— along with his wildly different work-ethic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In those first few months, their approaches to the job clashed so much that any time the two of them blew up into an argument— which was often— the office actually ran a betting pool on how it would turn out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread just kept putting them on more assignments together, though, and Eizen still isn’t sure if the man did it just because he was curious, or if he had some sense of how it would all turn out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And eventually… After enough work trips, travelling in a small group as they did— comparing notes on places, getting stuck in terrible weather, eating at all of the local restaurants and then getting into competitions to see who could handle the spiciest food— they got close. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really </span>
  </em>
  <span>close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly they had found that they worked better together, that their styles didn’t have to contradict each other when they could complement so well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That time, when they were dating and working and travelling, Eizen did what was probably the most productive work of his life thus far, both with Zaveid and the company, and by himself. That’s how Eizen published his first book, a small but detailed restaurant guide for people traveling across certain countries in EurAsia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen remembers the rambunctious office party on the day his book was finally released. Even more than that, though, he remembers the quiet dinner Zaveid took him to afterwards to celebrate, at the incredibly upscale restaurant in town that Eizen loved but barely ever got to eat at. He remembers how Zaveid had been glowing with pride the whole time; both of them had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Eizen also remembers the reason he hasn’t picked up his own damn book since the break up: the dedication page.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To my sister, boss, and travel partner. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>God. Now Eizen really wants that drink. He has half a mind to go outside and ask Magilou to get him shitfaced, the way they did together in grad school so often. But even if he wasn’t Aifread’s best man, he owes it to him to stay sober enough to enjoy— and actually remember— his wedding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a mental shake of his head, Eizen tells himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough reminiscing, enough. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It must be the setting— apparently even Eizen Yulind wasn’t immune to the sentimental feelings of weddings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Aifread speaks again, like he knows just how long to let Eizen spiral into his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are your plans after the new book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread has never been one to push someone into doing something they didn’t want to; that was part of why he had been so calm with Eizen leaving. Sure, he tried to offer some deals to keep Eizen with the company, but once the blonde had made it clear what his choice was, Aifread had been nothing but helpful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s why, now, Eizen could hear the part of his old boss’ question that he left unspoken so as not to force it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you planning to come back? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet. I’m going to see how it all plays out, and make my choices from there. I would like to travel again, though. Once Edna is settled, with what she wants to do after highschool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohoho, so you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>acknowledge the fact that she’s growing up, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen wants to smack the wry grin off of Aifread’s face, and he has half a mind to, too, but instead the smile is infectious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man,” Aifread starts again, scratching his beard and staring off into some unknown spot in the distance, “the kid really is growing up, though. I remember when she was so young you had to bring her on work trips— the two of you, holed up in hotel rooms, both doing your online work. And—” Aifread’s laugh interrupts his own words, “You were finishing up your MA stuff, and she was doing elementary school, but you both— </span>
  <em>
    <span>heh— </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>swap and ask each other to help!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eizen, in a rare case of embarrassment, has to clear his throat to fight off the flush creeping up his cheeks. “In my defense, she’s always been good at spotting typos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread grins again. “How many of the travel reports you’d turn in to me were proofread by Edna?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wry grin of his own spreads over Eizen’s face, even as he shrugs to fake nonchalance. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answer to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus, because of those trips she’s probably been to more places than most kids her age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s probably been to more places than most people </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>age,” Eizen corrects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aifread guffaws at that, and from then on their conversation shifts to happy recollecting, something that they haven’t done often enough lately. From some random cabinet Aifread pulls out a bottle of rum and a pair of glasses, and for the next few minutes Eizen laughs harder than he has in a while.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magilou doesn’t really care, of course. Even if Velvet is the most stunning, jaw-dropping person she’s ever met, even if her annoyed, half-hearted glare makes Magilou’s entire skin feel on fire, and even if she’s caught glimpses of a soft, sweet side of Velvet’s personality hidden under layers and layers and </span>
  <em>
    <span>layers </span>
  </em>
  <span>of however she presents herself— Magilou doesn’t really care. Of course not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s made Velvet laugh three times in their conversation already, but who’s keeping track?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Velvet is laughing one of those times— Magilou had made a particularly sarcastic comment mimicking the kind of shit extended family would say at weddings— when the Problem shows up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Problem comes in the form of a slightly tall man with black hair matching the overall black aesthetic of his outfit— a black and grey three-piece suit with purple accents and an orange-to-red ombre tie. Interesting. He bounds over to stand next to Velvet, and even with his bangs covering half his face, Magilou can easily see that he’s grinning brightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Magilou can just make out the outline of a scar underneath that thick bush of hair, but it’s not like she’s in any place to ask questions).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Velvet, you won’t—” his eyes suddenly train on Magilou, “Wait you’re actually socializing? From over the crowd I couldn’t tell— I thought someone was just standing near you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Velvet rolls her eyes and elbows him in the side— hard. But they’re both grinning, even if hers is slightly more muted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou’s flicking her eyes over the new person, trying to decide who he is and what his relationship to Velvet is. Not because Magilou particularly cares, of course. She just likes to know about people, and she likes the drama that comes with relationships, particularly when she’s not involved in them. That’s all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the guy’s done laughing he looks back at Magilou, head slightly tilted. “Have we met? You look really familiar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That depends,” she says. “Are you a fan of celebrity magicians?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I only really follow some pro-athletes and J-pop idols— You’re a celebrity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Magilou answers blithely. “Why do you ask?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Velvet snorts again, but quickly schools her expression back into nonchalance as she hands the new guy the untouched drink she has been holding this whole time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve probably seen her at one of Eizen’s parties,” Velvet finally chips in, and recognition dawns on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohh yeah that’s right! You’re the one that beat me at beer pong, aren’t you? I’m Rokurou Rangetsu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that’s right. She recognizes him too, now, it’s just so strange seeing people in formalwear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response Magilou just shrugs, taking a sip of her own champagne. “Magilou. And, a lady never tells her secrets. Luckily for you, I’m not much of a lady. Yes— ‘tis I, the one that beat you at beer pong. The only person I’ve ever lost a game to is Eizen’s ex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah— Zaveid was cool,” Rokurou says with a nod of his head. “Are they broken up for good, now? Last I heard they were on and off again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Damn. Magilou’s gut instinct is to snort at the question, since the two of them were as broken up as a pair of magnets— even when they were pulled apart, they’d always just end up back together— crashing together, probably, which in all likelihood is what Eizen was doing right now, with how long it was taking him to get back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou can’t exactly snort, though, or answer the question without revealing the role she’s supposed to be playing today, as much as she wanted to keep her ‘relationship status’ a secret from Velvet. Since this fake girlfriend status is going to end soon anyway, it would be a lot easier to just avoid it all together than try to explain later why Magilou was so ready to move on, since she plans to start flirting with Velvet in earnest as soon as this is all over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The black-haired pair are staring at her, though, so with an internal sigh— and a note to herself self to choose an extra-expensive dish on that ‘date’ Eizen promised to take her to— Magilou slips into her role as girlfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With as sweet a look as she could muster without needing to fight the urge to vomit, Magilou says, “Actually, they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” This time it’s Velvet speaking, mildly arching one eyebrow and somehow managing to look slightly suspicious and mostly disinterested at the same time. Magilou finds this incredibly attractive. “Eizen’s said that enough times that I’ve stopped believing him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Rokurou adds, “Same here. How’re you sure they’re not dating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dammit. Damn him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After emptying her champagne glass, Magilou lets her eyes drift over in a dreamy look to the doors where Eizen had disappeared through. “Because I’m here as Eizen’s date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rokurou managed to look both incredulous and impressed. “Wait— really? Eizen actually brought a date? I thought he was just joking when he said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you?” Magilou asked, hoping to change the focus of the topic to anything else right now. “Do you know the illustrious bride and groom? Or did someone bring you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Velvet’s date.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rokurou’s grinning fondly as he slings an arm around Velvet. Magilou internally cheers when Velvet shoves him off of her, but immediately deflates when Velvet’s still smiling, with a sort of fond exasperation; even when his arm is off her, though, their shoulders are still bumping, hovering near each other in a way that looked suspiciously close. A comfortable, at-ease energy is between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, it’s— Oh, fuck, Velvet, I’ll be back I gotta—” he’s looking over the crowd at someone, but Magilou’s too short to be able to spot whoever, or whatever, he sees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go.” Velvet looks like she’s trying to suppress a smirk by shrugging and fixing the hem of her glove. That’s a move Magilou knows well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rokurou’s off in a flash, weaving his way through the crowd of people. Has it gotten busier? The ceremony must just be about ready to start, and that’s a good thing. The sun is beating down on the collar of her suit, and she just wants this thing over with. Magilou has the sudden urge to find the bottom of a vodka bottle, and she’s wondering how well she could fake sobriety to Eizen when she spots the tall figure of the man himself somewhere over the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see you two have met,” Eizen says when he gets to them, propping up an arm around Magilou’s shoulder and pulling her close. She stares at him, but says nothing. Something must have happened; he’s in a mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Properly this time, at least,” Velvet replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou wants to glare at Eizen, or shove him, but instead she looks around— this is within the boundaries set by their agreement, but Eizen is far from being a cuddly person. If he’s doing this, it’s for the sake of something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there he is, the top of his hair (she can’t exactly tell from here, but it looks like it’s growing longer, since the green tips he usually has aren’t in her line of sight) floating just above the crowd. He’s standing near Rokurou, and a third person Magilou is again too short to see, but he’s obviously not paying attention to whatever Rokurou’s vividly discussing. He’s glaring in Eizen’s general direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... around? It’s been a while since I’ve seen the kid,” Eizen’s saying when Magilou tunes back into the conversation. His suit sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the way he always wears them, and his forearm is sweaty on Magilou’s shoulder. Using the arm that Velvet can’t see, Magilou pinches his side. If he’s going to ruin her flirting, she’s going to make it difficult for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he was really excited to see you and Aifread again. Last I saw, he was with your sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With my—!” Eizen starts, but before he could get angry, or irritating, Magilou cuts him off by pulling him closer and dropping her head against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eizen, darling,” she half-drawls, deciding if she’s going to act like an obnoxiously infatuated girlfriend then she’s going to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the way,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if at the very least to try and make Eizen break character and cringe. Still, she can’t quite meet Velvet’s gaze like this, so she focuses on staring up at Eizen instead. Even with her heels he was stupidly tall. “Let the kids have some fun for once. Laphicet’s probably the only person here around her age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but he’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He being annoying ‘bout his sister again?” Zaveid says, as he suddenly appears from the crowd with his arm around a slightly angry-looking ginger woman. With the two of them now joining this group, it’s become one of those circles of chatting that always happen at weddings.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Magilou thinks, sarcastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Eizen,” Zaveid’s saying, and though Magilou doesn’t know him nearly as well as Eizen does, she can see it, and she’s sure he can too: despite the casual grin on Zaveid’s face, there’s annoyance sizzling behind his voice, somewhere between spite irritation. “You can’t helicopter-parent her all your life. She’s like what, sixteen now? Heh, if only you knew the stuff </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was doing at that age—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thirteen,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eizen corrects, in that low voice he only used when he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>— more than normal. His voice sounds like the kind of waves that crash against a lighthouse signaling the kind of storm that left fleets wrecked at sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” The ginger at Zaveid’s side suddenly interjects, expression much kinder than it was before. “Is she the young girl with the two-toned yellow dress? She has her hair up in a side ponytail?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Eizen replies, eyeing the woman suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh— I’m sorry, I know that sounded strange. I only mean, I met her earlier when she was standing at the edge of the grass near the refreshment’s table. Her heels were blistered from her shoes, but luckily I had band-aids from my purse. You two just look so alike that the moment I saw you I knew you must be her family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou gives the woman a proper look over. She’s wearing a simple, navy blue dress with a sleeveless white cardigan, and the colors match the flower pins on each of her pigtails. This time, Magilou realizes the woman’s actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>petite like she had first thought; she’s taller than Magilou, though that isn’t particularly hard to be, and the sleeveless nature of her outfit shows off the defined muscles of her arms. The most fascinating part, though, is that even though Zaveid’s arm is around her, it looks like she’s standing as far from him as that touch would physically allow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magilou has questions. A lot of them. All she asks, though, is: “You carry band-aids in your purse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman blinks at her, before smiling a slightly embarrassed smile. “Oh, yes. I babysit as a side job, so I need those pretty often. I’ve started just carrying them anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was bleeding?” Eizen’s voice is completely serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, but only barely. We just cleaned it up with a napkin and put some band-aids over her heels.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my Eleanor. Always prepared.” Zaveid pulls the woman— Eleanor— close, and the glare from earlier returns on her face. He’s staring at Eizen now like he expects some response, but without even making eye contact with Zaveid, Eizen shoves his way out of the circle and through the crowd, in Edna’s general direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The emotions on Zaveid’s face flicker in quick succession from surprise to annoyance to nonchalance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Eleanor says the moment Eizen is gone, somehow managing to sound both polite and irritated. She steps out from Zaveid’s embrace and disappears into the crowd as well. Zaveid barely looks bothered, instead just staring vaguely in the direction of the open bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Magilou thinks with a dawning suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zaveid brought a fake date with him. Just like Eizen. They both did, unplanned from the other person, to spite each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike Zaveid’s date, though, Magilou can actually act. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s fucking hilarious. Magilou wants to start laughing, right then and there, but except for the smirk that slips over her lips, she manages to hold it in. Velvet— Magilou almost forgot she had been standing there— makes silent eye contact with Magilou, her gaze a little too suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least she’d be spared from having to talk about whatever just happened, since the blonde man from earlier— Benwick?— chooses then to step up to the podium in front of the big lawn area, and announce into the microphone he borrowed from the band, “Everyone, if you’d take your seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter, and then we're done with the wedding arc! I hope this chapter wasn't too exposition-dumping, I tried my best to work it in naturally. Let me know if you guys liked it, and if you have any critiques/suggestions?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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